


Go Down Together

by coloursflyaway



Category: The Hobbit RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 07:54:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloursflyaway/pseuds/coloursflyaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this lovely prompt:<br/>Post-Hobbit filming, Dean is in love with Aidan and doesn't want him to leave New Zealand (and him). Aidan is in love with Dean, and doesn't want to leave New Zealand (and him). By the time they realize this it's almost too late.</p>
<p>Not necessary but I'll love anyone forever if they include Dean running after Aidan in the airport trying to get his attention because he's finally realized.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Down Together

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/4307.html?thread=12582867#t12582867

Everything has always been so easy with Dean, Aidan thinks and means it.   
He doesn’t know what it is, what it was which made them click from that first moment on, but there was some sort of spark, some sort of hint when he had set eyes on each other for the first time, Dean with a hesitant, nervous smile on his face, Aidan bursting with excitement.  
Looking back, the day Rob dropped out of the production might just have been one of the most important ones in his life.

The spark held his promise, because Dean had proved as much fun to talk to as Aidan had hoped he would, as good an actor and an even better friend. He had been unsure about fitting in – Aidan knew that although they never talked about it, because even then, he had been able to see it in the way Dean tilted his head, the way he would look down at his hands, how his smiles would sometimes appear just a moment too late – but whatever worries Dean’s pretty head had held had proved unneeded, and with every smile, every kind word in the other’s direction, Aidan’s chest had swollen a bit more with pride.   
It was ridiculous, he knew that much, but still couldn’t help it; somehow Dean had become his the second his smile had widened in response to the huge grin plastered all over Aidan’s face.

With time, when weeks, months passed everyone seemed to realise it, some with a twinkle in their eye, some with a chuckle, some with a small, warm smile.   
Everyone but Dean.  
And that is the whole problem.   
Because although the filming seems to have already taken his entire life and a few additional years, it is still drawing to an end, only a few days left, and with every passing minute, second even, Aidan can feel his desperation rise. Of course they have promised that they will keep in touch, all of them, but he has been in the business for long enough to know how this is going to work: They’ll exchange phone numbers and for two months, three maybe, they’ll all actually make an effort. They will text and text back, meet up when possible, but with time, the texts will become more seldom and shorter, meetings will be cancelled because of different shooting schedules and in the end, they’ll be at the point where they, in case they do meet at some gala, some premiere, some award show, won’t know what to talk about.

And Aidan has accepted that, he really has, but while he is somehow okay with not seeing the others again - Adam with his seemingly unending amount of cheerfulness, James and his easy laugh and dirty jokes, Richard’s pleased smile when he made someone laugh - he is not even close to okay with not seeing Dean again. Because as much as he likes the other guys, he likes Dean a lot more and maybe, just maybe, a bit more than that still.

It should be hard to admit it, but for some reason, it isn’t, maybe because with Dean, everything seems to come natural, as if he was following a script which has been written and engrained in his every cell.

Even now, with the worry laced to each of his movements, it’s easy to sit back and rest his head against the pillows and stare into the distance.   
“It’s strange, isn’t it?”, Aidan asks and refuses to look at Dean next to him in case his eyes will give away his secret, “That we’ll be going home in two days.”  
There is no answer, just a faint hum coming from the other and Aidan tries to forget why he hates that sound so much the second he notices he does.  What he expected, he doesn’t quite know, but he knows what he would have liked to hear.

It seems that there is nothing left to be said, because no matter how much Aidan searches, he cannot find a single thing to ask, to answer, so he stays silent instead, hoping that Dean’s script is a better one while he picks on his nails.

However, it doesn’t seem to be and so the silence stretches until it has changed into something which has nothing of the normal, light, comfortable lack of talking but more of a stillness caused by too many things which should be said and too little they dare to speak out loud.   
And then there is a hand on Aidan’s shoulder, warm and surely as damaged by the latex prostheses they have to wear on set as Aidan’s are, the fingers crooked the slightest bit, not yet enough to dig into his flesh, but enough to make sure he feels them.

“Did I say anything wrong? If so, I’m pretty sure I didn’t mean it”, Dean says after a few more moments and Aidan can feel himself freezing, because he would never have expected for Dean to sound so earnest.  
He turns and does his best not to look as hesitant as he feels, but Dean’s expression doesn’t give any clue about if he succeeded or not, instead is as open and sincere as his voice sounded and Aidan is sure that if he hadn’t fallen for the other already he would have in this exact moment, and so hard it would have made him gasp for breath.

Even if he is able to breathe properly, it doesn’t mean that the words come any easier, because of course Dean hasn’t said anything wrong, but that alone would make an answer Aidan wouldn’t even believe himself.   
“No, ‘course not. It’s just…I’ll miss you guys”, he replies instead and watches Dean’s eyes soften. The other’s hand is still perched on his shoulder and Aidan pretends not to notice.

“I’ll miss you too, Aid”, Dean answers and it takes a moment until Aidan understands why his heart is fluttering in his chest. Because Dean will miss _him_ , not _them,_ and it feels like the most important thing in the world.   
“But we’ll stay in touch, won’t we?”, the other continues, all hopeful and maybe with just the tiniest hint of a blush high on his cheeks and it hurts. It’s a gentle, bittersweet ache, but it’s painful nonetheless, because Aidan wants to, of course he does, he wants to at least wake up to a text from Dean when he can’t wake up next to the other man himself, wants to go out for dinner and a beer and send stupid Christmas cards, but as much as he wants it, he knows it _won’t happen_.   
“…sure”, he replies nonetheless and looks away again, because maybe he can at least pretend.

“What do you mean, ‘ _sure’_?” This time, it’s obviously Aidan who has said something wrong, because Dean sounds almost offended, looks like it too.   
It’s a look he never, ever wanted to see on Dean’s face, let alone put there.   
“It’s just…it won’t work. It never does.” Aidan can hear the defeat in his own voice, but he knows that he wouldn’t have been able to swallow it down even if he wanted to. But while this simple fact has always been so obvious to Aidan, it seems to be completely new to Dean, since the other only looks at him for a moment, disbelief written all over his face.

“There’ll just be… different things to care about. You know. We’ll work on different projects, in different parts of the world, we’ll meet new people, you’ll find a nice girl…and this” Aidan gestures between them, at the bond he likes to think is between them, “This will stop mattering. First only a bit and then more and more until this whole film is just something you think about when you  are looking at an old photo album and boring everyone around you with some old story about how we went out and got drunk and found Adam trying to talk to a cat when we were about to leave.”  
It’s not a great answer, maybe it even sounds a bit helpless , but that’s how Aidan feels, helpless because he doesn’t know what to say, because he doesn’t know what to do and because he would like not to believe in what he is saying so much.

Dean stays silent and it’s a good sign as much as it’s a bad one, because Aidan needs him to understand but doesn’t want him to at the same time. He can see that Dean is thinking, in the way his eyes are looking ahead but not at him, his teeth catch his bottom lip and nibble on it. If needed, they won’t even stop once they draw blood, Aidan has seen it happen more than once, and more than once had wanted to kiss the blood off Dean’s lips and the wound better.

“I still don’t want that to happen.” It’s not even close to an answer and Aidan doesn’t quite know what to answer to it, but Dean’s hand slips from his shoulder, down his arm and comes to rest on the space between them, palm turned upwards.   
The words were not meant for him, he realises, no, they were for Dean himself; it’s the hand laid out between them which is his answer.  

And Aidan’s heart beats faster, only a little bit, because it’s too busy swelling in his chest, just how his mind is too busy fitting together all the bits and pieces to one, beautiful, bright picture.  
Everything has always been so easy with Dean and it’s just as easy to reach out, slowly, as if a too-fast movement could break him, and cover the other’s hand with his own.

Their hands don’t fit together perfectly, far from it, with Aidan’s fingers crooked awkwardly against the cushions and Dean’s not sure if to curl or stay spread out, but it doesn’t matter, because they’ll have time to figure out how to do it better.  
And maybe, Aidan thinks, maybe he was all wrong.   
Maybe this won’t stop mattering after all.


End file.
